


Being prepared

by MidnightTyper



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bathtubs, Fluff, Healer, Injury, M/M, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightTyper/pseuds/MidnightTyper
Summary: After befalling an injury, Geralt is escorted to a healer by his partner Jaskier. After much grumbling on the witcher's part, Jaskier helps as much as he can.“Well your plan worked brilliantly if I do say so myself,” Jaskier muttered sarcastically as he observed the destruction in front of him. A butchered beast lay in front of him, too damaged for the bard to even work out what it was. Though from what he could tell it had certainly put up a fight if the battered and disheveled witcher in front of him was anything to go by."It’s dead isn’t it,” Geralt huffed between gritted teeth as he tried to force himself to his feet but failed miserably.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Being prepared

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The Witcher.

“Well your plan worked brilliantly if I do say so myself,” Jaskier muttered sarcastically as he observed the destruction in front of him. A butchered beast lay in front of him, too damaged for the bard to even work out what it was. Though from what he could tell it had certainly put up a fight if the battered and disheveled witcher in front of him was anything to go by.  
"It’s dead isn’t it,” Geralt huffed between gritted teeth as he tried to force himself to his feet but failed miserably.  
“I wouldn’t attempt that, Geralt. It looks broken, the bone’s all sticking up,” Nausea fuelled him for a brief moment as he observed the offending ankle, and he could swear he turned green momentarily as the sight was almost enough for him to throw up.  
“Where’s Roach?” Geralt interrogated from his position on the mossy floor, his face overcome with irritation at his predicament.  
“I’ll get him, with any luck we’ll be at a healer by nightfall. However if you keep up that attitude then you won’t get a reward from your dutiful boyfriend,” Jaskier informed him jokingly before setting off to locate the horse.

He returned mere moments later, the horse in his wake as they once again came upon the clearing. Geralt looked up at them in thinly veiled relief, able to feel the burning, scorching pain beginning to bleed into his veins.   
“Let’s get you to a healer,” Jaskier announced as he began to hoist his partner up as gently as possible.  
“Fuck,” Geralt muttered under his breath as he did so, helping Jaskier as he pulled his weight onto his good ankle and staggered to Roach, before being helped onto the horse by Jaskier. Said bard then hopped up himself behind him, wrapping his arms around his toned waist. 

What felt like an eternity, but was only an hour, Roach halted to a stop against the quaint building before him.  
“Here we are, now let’s get the ankle seen to,” Jaskier’s voice left no room for argument as he helped Geralt get down from Roach, who was secured inside the small stables.   
“Good, the sooner it’s sorted the sooner you can stop fretting over me like my mother,” Geralt voiced.  
“I’m wounded, Geralt. What sort of person would I be if I didn’t care for the muse behind my music,” Geralt let out a small grin before hobbling inside the establishment to receive treatment, Jaskier walking with him, his lute strapped to his waist in case any such inspiration for songs where to spring in front of him.

Hours later, Jaskier bundled Geralt inside of an inn for the night. The witcher had been complaining the whole ride over of the orders of the physician.  
“No monsters for a month, how the hell am I supposed to pay for Roach’s oats? He can get fucked if he thinks I’m listening to that blundering buffoon,”  
“You are aware he knows what he’s doing?” Jaskier tried with an impish smirk.  
“I bet that’s horseshit,”  
“If he was that bad, why didn’t you just pull one of your scary swords out?”  
“Because I’m not to fight, in his words not mine,” Geralt chuckled as he slumped against the bed of the room they’d been assigned.   
“Care for a bath?” Jaskier called as he made his way to the wooden tub.  
“Please,” Geralt responded before beginning to pull his clothes off, leaving them in a huddle on the bed. He proceeded to make his cautious way over to the tub, which Jaskier was waiting by for it to be filled by one of the inn’s workers. 

“Bit eager for a bath, are you?” Jaskier grinned as he became aware of his boyfriend’s nakedness.  
“Better to be prepared than not,” Geralt replied with a smirk before his expression became one of pain for a fleeting millisecond as he stepped too firmly with his injured ankle.  
“Right. Sit yourself down, you’ll only damage it even more if not,” Jaskier commanded, pulling Geralt by the arm to a stool in the corner, daring him to remain standing. The white-haired witcher thought better and plonked himself down, causing the bard to give him a self-satisfied smile.

It wasn’t a long wait before the worker entered the room with a cautious knock and a large bucket of steaming water. A blush flittered over her cheeks as she took in the sight of Geralt.  
“Don’t mind him, he simply couldn’t wait to get clean,” Jaskier spoke lightly as he took a hold of the bucket and began to fill the bath, “Thank you,” The woman took the hint and dismissed herself from the room, carrying the empty bucket with her. Once she left, Jaskier began to pull his clothes off as well before helping Geralt to the bath. Once he could see he was comfortable, Jaskier got in after him, sitting himself opposite his partner.  
“Better?”  
“Much,” Geralt answered.  
“I love you, you know,”  
“I love you too,”


End file.
